


Patient Forty-Two

by scarletladyy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Healer Draco, Malfoy Manor, Patient Hermione
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-18
Updated: 2013-12-18
Packaged: 2018-01-05 18:16:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1097102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarletladyy/pseuds/scarletladyy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco's been given a new patient, and he soon finds out it's the long-standing, almost comatose Hermione Granger. He doesn't think he'll be any good for her, especially when she has a panic attack at his presence, but his supervisor thinks otherwise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Patient Forty-Two

**Author's Note:**

  * For [starduchess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/starduchess/gifts).



> Written for dramione_duet 2013. Thank you to my beta, flipflop_diva.

_Patient Forty-Two: Female, late twenties, unresponsive. There's been no coherent speech in the last ten years and numerous attempts to connect with her have all failed. The reason for her state has been attributed to prolonged torture during the second Wizarding war; it has been said she was perfectly fine beforehand._

Draco supposed he should have been flattered, really. They'd only given him such a difficult case because he'd had similar successes with other patients, but this particular patient had been almost comatose in St Mungo's for as long as Draco could remember. He'd heard vague stories about her from colleagues, but he'd never seen her for himself as she was on the Janus Thickey Ward and he hadn't stepped foot in there yet. If nobody else had managed to get a reaction out of her he didn't think he would. Still, he couldn't exactly give up on her. That wasn't what Healers did. 

"Mr Malfoy?" called one of the nurses. He looked up from his parchment with the patient's details on. "She's ready for you now."

"Thanks." Draco folded the parchment and placed it into one of his pockets. He'd see how she was and get a feel for the situation before reading the entire document later. Sometimes, cold, hard facts could distort what was really there; that's a lesson he'd learned fairly early on in his Healer training.

Draco went through the door the nurse was holding open for him, unsure of what he was about to see. Whatever he'd envisaged, it certainly wasn't this. His eyebrows rose and his eyes grew wide as he realised that Patient Forty-Two was none other than Hermione Granger, who he knew all too well had been tortured into this state by his own aunt. She wasn't the only person on this ward because of his aunt, though; that he was never allowed to forget.

Very carefully and slowly, he went towards her. She was lying on her back, but her face was to the side, staring at the wall. She didn't seem to be registering anything. She was very, very pale with black bags around her eyes, and she looked a lot thinner than when he'd last seen her. She wore the standard hospital gown and her bed covers were around her waist, presumably so she didn't get too hot in the relatively warm summer they were having. He knelt down on the floor next to her bed and positioned himself in her eye line. "Granger? It's me, Malfoy. Draco Malfoy."

All of a sudden Hermione sprung into action. Her eyes grew wide and she began to scream, reeling backwards and pointing at him in horror. Her screams alerted the nurses, who ran in and attempted to calm her down as Draco moved out of the way. He wanted to stay and watch to see what happened to her, but his presence was clearly evoking some strong, powerful memory, so he skulked back out of the room as the nurses got out their wands and began to sedate her.

Hermione hadn't spoken since she was tortured, since she was admitted, nor made any noise or any attempts to connect with anyone, yet the sight of his face sent her into a screaming panic. He didn't have a clue why; it wasn't as if _he'd_ tortured her. He'd just have to go back to his supervisor and explain the situation, let her know he couldn't possibly work with Patient Forty-Two because he clearly distressed her.

*

"Healer Strout?" Draco approached his supervisor warily. She was kind and motherly looking, but if she didn't think you had a patient's best interests at heart then she could be rather fierce and sharp. Often, her and Draco's methods differed, so they'd clashed on a number of occasions. Her strict nature was due in part to her suspension many years ago; she'd neglected to follow gift guidelines, which had resulted in a patient being killed. "I need to talk to you about Patient Forty-Two."

Healer Strout looked up from her paperwork. "Patient Forty-Two? Ahh, Miss Granger. Is there something the matter?"

"I went to see her earlier, and as soon as I stepped into her line of vision she had a complete and utter meltdown. She went into a complete panic, screaming and pointing at me, shuffling away from me. The nurses had to sedate her."

"Why, that's excellent news!" Healer Strout was beaming. Had she misheard him? Draco thought he'd been very clear.

"I'm sorry?"

"Miss Granger has been unresponsive for over ten years now, Healer Malfoy. For you to warrant such a reaction in her can only be a good thing."

Draco frowned. "Can it? I thought, perhaps, one of the other Healers might be best assigned to her care."

"No, Healer Malfoy." Healer Strout pursed her lips into a thin line. She did not look happy with his suggestion. "This, more than anything else, confirms that you are the correct Healer for Miss Granger. I am aware that you have been kept away from Patient Forty-Two because of your connection to her and your shared history, but I believe that could be the ticket to her gaining her sanity back. At the very least, she acknowledges you and knows who you are. That is a step in the right direction; previous attempts by her friends haven't worked at all, as I'm sure you're aware if you've read the notes I gave you."

Draco averted his eyes; he'd only read the summary at the top, having wanted to get a feel for her. He hadn't actually been aware he'd been purposefully kept away from Hermione, though with how his stomach sank at the knowledge, he could understand why it'd been kept a secret. Until very recently, Healer Pollingtonious had been the Head Healer, but Healer Strout, a long-standing and valued Healer, had taken over after Pollingtonious had stepped down. She seemed to have big ideas, and fixing Hermione Granger was one of them. "She might connect me with the torture. She might think I did it."

Healer Strout nodded in agreement. "She might. That's something you'll just have to deal with."

"I distressed her."

"Indeed you did. Distress is the very first emotion she's shown in over a decade, so like I say, the response can only be a good thing. For us, now, and for her in the long run. It'll help her recovery, I'm sure of it. Good day, Healer Malfoy."

And that was that. That was the end of the conversation. It seemed Draco was stuck with being Hermione's Healer after all, despite the extreme reaction she'd shown. He'd just have to be mindful of it in the future and think of a way around it, a way to use it to aid her recovery.

*

Draco spent the rest of that day reading up on Hermione's notes, all her previous treatments and Healers. He read and re-read the horrific account of torture, even though he remembered it very well already as he was there too. He wanted a less biased viewpoint; he wanted to see how it came across from the people who were closest to her. There were accounts from Harry and Ron, as well as his own mother, which he'd been shocked to see as he hadn't realised she'd been involved. He supposed they must not have asked him because of his career in the field. Either that, or they didn't think he'd have complied.

After spending so many hours reading and re-reading about torture, it really should have been no surprise to Draco that he slept badly that night. He struggled to sleep, and when he did finally manage it, he had the same horrific nightmares he'd had ten years ago. He awoke after each and every one of them feeling as though he was still in that place in his life, as though Voldemort was still in the manor and about to ask him to torture someone or, even, be tortured himself.

When morning came he was nothing short of relieved, and decided that if he was going to manage to work with Hermione, he'd need to stop off at the apothecary at some point and pick up a batch of Dreamless Sleep. Not now, though. He was late for work, having indulged in a rather long bath after such a horrific night's sleep. It had helped, some, but he wasn't at his best, which he was rather annoyed about given how important Hermione's case was.

"She's just had her breakfast," one of the nurses—who he really should have learnt the name of by now—said to him as he walked onto the Janus Thickey Ward. "Please try not to scare her this time. It was distressing for the other patients too, you know."

Draco managed a quick smile at the nurse before she left, then set his things down on the chair next to Hermione's bed. He thought the nurse had a bit of a cheek; it wasn't as if he'd done it on purpose. Hermione was sat up, but her gaze was set on her bedside table, where a vase of fresh flowers had been placed. It wasn't there before, so someone must have brought it between yesterday and today. He suspected Harry, or one of the Weasleys.

"Good morning, Hermione," he said softly, seeing if his voice alone elicited any response without being directly in her vision. She twitched a little, if he wasn't mistaken, but she didn't show any other sign of recognising him. He did like that she'd shown interest in the flowers, though. That meant that she realised they were new, which meant she was relatively in the present; she just wasn't communicating. "I'm your new Healer, Draco Malfoy. We went to Hogwarts together."

Still no response. He opened his briefcase and took out a photo of himself. He'd chosen one where all he was doing was standing and posing, then bursting into laughter. He had many Quidditch related ones, but he didn't want too much action as he was worried it would scare her. He first placed the photo on her lap, but when she didn't register it after a few seconds, he took her left hand—the one nearest the vase of flowers—and placed the photo in it, closing her fingers tightly around it. 

Hermione blinked once, twice, three times, then moved her head to look at the photo. She couldn't see it all that well with the position it was in, so she moved her hand to on top of her lap, incidentally where Draco had originally had it. She looked at the photo for a few moments, seemingly studying it, then narrowed her eyes and screwed it up in her hand, throwing it on the floor. He was glad he hadn't chosen a more memorable one.

"Good idea, Hermione," Draco said jubilantly. "I don't like that photo, either. My hair's a mess." He laughed a little, but she didn't join in, or even acknowledge his presence. She had, however, connected with the present merely by _looking_ at the photo. Like the vase of flowers, she knew it was something new and wanted to investigate it. He remembered how irritatingly curious she'd been at school, so that trait must still be in there somewhere. Thankfully, she also hadn't screamed at his image, but she clearly hadn't liked it. 

Not wanting to risk entering her eye line, Draco _Accio_ 'd the photo and then freed it from the creases it had sustained under Hermione's hand. He held it with his left hand, and very slowly placed his right hand—the one with his infamous signet ring on it—into her vision. It had the Malfoy crest on it, and Draco wanted to see whether or not she recognised it, and if she did, whether she would freak out at it. She stared at it curiously and placed a finger on it, tracing the 'M' there. She didn't touch his hand and soon lost interest, by which time Draco felt confident enough to try his new tactic.

He placed a glamour on his face, so Hermione wouldn't immediately recognise him, and took his chair round to the other side of her bed. He was now in her eyesight, but there was no reaction as she didn't recognise him. He enlarged the photo so it was the size of his head and placed it in front of his face, then took off the glamour. All Hermione could see was the same photo she'd just thrown on the floor.

"No!" Hermione said fiercely, taking the photo out of his grasp and ripping it to shreds. She was so busy with her task that she hadn't realised it was Draco there, and didn't until she'd finished desecrating the photo. She looked at where the photo had been and saw him, then looked between him and the pieces on the floor. She seemed to be a little confused.

"Hello, Hermione," he said again, smiling as pleasantly as he could. He wanted his face to appear friendly, to be as less scary as possible. 

"No!" Hermione repeated, but instead of panicking and screaming as she had done yesterday, she slid down in her bedsheets and covered herself with them, hiding under them.

Some may have believed that was another failed attempt, but Draco was absolutely overjoyed with her progress. He quietly said goodbye and gathered his things, then went to the small office he shared with a couple of other Healers to write down his findings. Hermione had spoken for the first time in ten years today—twice! Not only that, but she'd shown awareness that she was in the present day, recognition of someone she knew and signs that she still had very strong emotions in there. The two prominent ones were her curiosity and her anger. She may have hid from him at the end, but that was a much better reaction than the previous day, when she'd had a panic attack.

Before he left, he instructed the nurses to place three happy, smiling photographs of himself on her bedside table, and to make sure they were placed with Sticking charms so she couldn't remove them. He hoped that their presence would help her get used to his face, so he could see her without her panicking or growing angry.

Today was a roaring success. He must have sparked an awareness in her yesterday, given her a jolt into the present day or something like that. If she carried on like this, she'd be cured within a week, though Draco was nowhere near optimistic enough to believe that. He still thought he'd be here in a year's time with her, because she'd need a lot of help in order to adjust to everyday life once more. 

Several years ago, the thought of spending day after day in Hermione Granger's company would have driven him to the edge, but now he felt that helping her get better was the least he could do.

*

The early afternoon sun shone brightly as Draco made his way down Diagon Alley to the Leaky Cauldron. He'd just been to Slug & Jiggers Apothecary and bought several bottles of Dreamless Sleep, and had agreed to meet Pansy and Blaise in the pub for lunch afterwards. He arrived a little later than arranged, but Pansy and Blaise didn't seem at all bothered by it. In fact, as he made his way over to their table after buying a drink, they didn't even notice him. They didn't even look when he sat down at their table; they were far too interested in each other.

"Ahem." Draco cleared his throat and set his drink down on the table loudly. The two lovers broke apart from their kiss and turned to him, a little miffed they'd been interrupted. "You two seem... amorous today."

Pansy beamed. "Of course. We have just got back from our honeymoon, Draco. Would you like to see the photos?"

"No!" Draco said far too quickly for Pansy's liking. She narrowed her eyes and scowled at him. "Come on, guys. I'm the one who set you two up; surely I get a free pass from having to look at your honeymoon photos when my love life is null and void?!"

"I suppose," Blaise said, smiling. Pansy didn't look as convinced, though. "You really should get back in the game, you know. Astoria has."

"I'd rather we didn't talk about my ex-wife, if it's all the same to you." Draco took a large sip of his drink. He really didn't like talking about Astoria; their marriage had been arranged by their parents, and had been rather short-lived. He thought she was a stuck-up little princess, and she thought he was a cold-hearted bastard. Their divorce had been a shock, but it was either that or end up killing each other eventually. 

"Malfoy."

Draco turned at the sound of his surname, to see Harry staring at him. He guessed her friends must have been notified that he was Hermione's new Healer. "Yes?"

"I want a word. In private."

"Fine." Draco rolled his eyes at his confused friends and followed Harry to a quiet corner of the pub. "What is it? If you want to talk to me in a professional capacity, you really should do it whilst I'm at work."

"I really don't like that you're Hermione's new Healer, I won't lie." Harry stood rigid, his arms folded tightly across his chest. "But apparently, there's nothing I can do about that, so I'm here to tell you to be damn careful with her. I don't want you making it any worse. I heard about the distress you caused her, and don't get me started on your supervisor thinking it's a _good_ thing."

"Look, Potter," Draco said firmly, "can we not discuss this when I'm back in work tomorrow?"

"There's nothing to discuss. Just look after her."

"I—" Draco had barely started his sentence when Harry walked off; the infuriating git, he clearly wasn't interested in what Draco had to say. Did he really think Draco was going to jeopardise his career to intentionally worsen Hermione's situation? Who the fuck would even _do_ that, anyway?! He made his way back to his table a lot angrier than when he'd left.

"What did Potter want?" Blaise asked when he sat down.

"To be a bastard."

"Anyway," Pansy said, completely ignoring the strange look Blaise was giving Draco. "About your love life. There's a new girl in my office that I think is your type: brown hair, dark eyes, wears skimpy robes."

Draco snorted. "Don't think much of me, do you, Pans? How shallow do you think I am?!"

"I really don't think you want me to answer that," she replied with a smirk. No, perhaps he didn't. During the brief time he'd gone out with Pansy when they were teenagers, his tastes were rather different. He was a lot... hornier back then, being a hormonal teenage boy and all. Their relationship had mostly been sexual, and the chemistry they'd had was electric, but as a couple in general, they just didn't work. She hadn't been _enough_ for him intellectually, though he'd never dare tell her that. "Now, come on. You're not getting any younger you know, and your mother is desperate for a grandchild."

"And your father for an heir," Blaise helpfully supplied.

Draco frowned. "Do you two mind? I've got enough stress on as it is without you two adding to it."

"What stress?" Pansy inquired.

"Something to do with Potter, I bet," said Blaise. "You never did say what he wanted."

"It's private."

"Come on." Pansy placed a hand on his and leaned in, batting her eyelashes. A few years ago that might've worked, but it certainly didn't now. "You can tell us."

"I can't," said Draco firmly. "Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to go and order some food." He stood and went to the bar, wanting a moment's peace from their pressure. He got it about his love life from both them and his parents, and now he was getting it about Hermione from Harry, and to top it off, his friends wanted to know what Harry had wanted. He was tempted just to bugger off and live in a cave, see how people liked it then. 

But he couldn't. He had family obligations, and he also had a commitment to healing Hermione. He'd show Harry bleeding Potter just how good he could be for her, and he was going to do it by curing her.

*

"How did Hermione react to my photos?" Draco asked the nurse as he entered the Janus Thickey Ward the next day.

"She didn't like them at first," said the nurse. "She tried to cover them up with the flowers, but it didn't really work. She growled a little every now and then, but as the day went on, she seemed to get used to them."

"Did she speak?"

The nurse shook her head. That was a disappointment. Even if it had only been the word 'no' like the other day, it would have been a start.

"I'm curious," Draco started. "When was the last time Hermione went outside?"

The nurse shrugged. "Not since she was admitted, I don't think."

"Right." Draco frowned. "Fetch me a wheelchair, would you?"

"But Healer Malfoy—"

"Please," he repeated. He didn't give her another chance to reply; he didn't want to hear her concerns. It was no wonder Hermione was in the state she was in if she'd been in the very same room looking at the same four walls for the past decade. A little sunshine and fresh air would do her good. He went over to her bed and pulled the curtains around her, pulling out the box from underneath her bed. It contained a few personal items like books and a couple of changes of clothes. He grabbed a light robe and pushed the box back under the bed. "I'll be back in a moment, Hermione," he said, though she hadn't really acknowledged his presence. She'd moved her head towards the sound when he was rummaging in the box, though.

"Here, Healer Malfoy." The nurse he'd previously instructed stood outside Hermione's curtains, holding onto the wheelchair. She didn't bother to try and stop Draco, presumably realising how determined he was.

"Thank you. Here." Draco took the wheelchair and handed her the robe. "Could you please place this on her? I know it's quite warm but with her not being outside for so long I don't want her to get cold."

"Certainly." The nurse forced a smile onto her face, but she wasn't trying too hard to make it look genuine. He didn't care; he didn't need her approval. He knew this would have some benefit for Hermione, so he waited patiently while the nurse prepared her. She came back out again a few moments later, opening the curtains. "She's ready."

"Thank you, Nurse—" Draco peered at her name tag, "Stratham. That'll be all."

Nurse Stratham left with a loud _hmph_ , but Draco hardly noticed. He wheeled the chair round to a newly robed Hermione, who was playing with the fabric. He hoped it might rekindle a memory for her, but it didn't appear to. Perhaps it wasn't a robe she'd worn often. 

"Hello again, Hermione," he sad softly. She was facing his way, and when he said her name, she looked up. Right into his eyes. He beamed at her. "I'm just going to Levitate you into this chair, okay?" She blinked. "No need to worry, we're just going outside. It's lovely weather for a change; you'll get to see the sun, and all the flowers are in bloom." He spoke quietly but firmly as he levitated her very carefully into the wheelchair. She looked wildly around as he did so, but she didn't appear to panic. "That's right. Sitting comfortably? Good. Come on, let's go." 

Draco wheeled her out of her ward and down the corridors to the lifts at the end of the hall. He spoke soothingly to her all the while, in the hope that his voice would calm any anxiety she might have been having. The last thing he wanted was for her to freak out. He did feel as though he was talking to a child, but he knew it would be easier for her to understand him this way. When she got a bit better and regained some of her old self, he'd be able to talk to her properly again. 

With it being fairly early morning, they didn't meet too many people along the way, and they didn't have to share the lift with anyone either. He had worried too many people would cause her to panic, but as long as they didn't stay out for too long, that probably wouldn't be an issue today. 

The morning summer sunshine hit their eyes as soon as they left the hospital and entered the grounds. It hurt Draco's eyes and made him scowl, so he wasn't surprised to look down and see Hermione hiding her eyes with her arm. After so many years of artificial light, true sunlight must be painful if nothing else. Thinking on his feet, Draco picked up the nearest thing to hand—a small plant pot, which he was sure the hospital wouldn't miss—and transfigured it into a parasol. He really didn't want to give Hermione bad associations with the outside world, so he knelt down next to her and placed the parasol in her hands, closing her fists around it so she'd hold it up once he let go.

"Okay?" He asked, not expecting a reply. He didn't get a verbal one, but she did nod and seemingly understood the parasol's use. It was a good start, by all accounts. He wheeled her around the hospital's large grounds, making small talk with her and pointing out things of interest (mainly flowers and statues). Once they'd toured most of the grounds, he placed Hermione's wheelchair facing a bench and then sat down on it, smiling at her. She made eye contact with him, which he wasn't expecting, but she didn't say anything. She seemed to be studying him, as though trying to recall all the memories she had of him. He hoped they were from their Hogwarts days, when they were nothing more than school rivals, rather than the horrific torture he'd been witness to. "Do you like being out in the fresh air, Hermione? Is it nice to feel the warm air on your face?"

Hermione nodded, then opened her mouth as if to speak. She shut it again, but a moment later squeaked out a very quiet, but very real, "Yes."

"That's great. Really great." He smiled at her, and the corners of her mouth went up as if to return it. She'd said two words now, so she clearly knew exactly what was going on. Perhaps because she hadn't talked in so long, she was finding it harder to get into the habit again. "Do you remember much of the last ten years, Hermione?"

She shook her head and looked at him forlornly.

"What of the last few days? All of it?"

"Yes."

So he had made something in her snap then. If she didn't remember much of the last ten years, but she remembered everything of the last few days, that means something must have happened to make her connect with the present day. He couldn't wait to tell Healer Strout the good news.

*

"Healer Strout? Healer Strout?" Draco practically ran into her office later that day. He'd taken Hermione back to her ward and got her settled, then went back to his own office to make some notes and do a review of her medication. He thought the nurses would know what they were doing with that, and the previous Healers too, but he needed to know exactly what she was on. He hadn't been able to find the page on her medication, though, so he'd decided to mention it to Healer Strout when he bragged about Hermione's progress.

"Yes, Healer Malfoy?" Healer Strout didn't look pleased to be interrupted again. She sighed and looked at him expectantly.

"It's Hermione. She's spoken!"

This, at least, seemed to brighten up her straight face. "Is that right?" He nodded. "How much?"

"Just two words, but repeatedly, and she's able to answer questions and show she's alive and in the present. She knows what's going on now, whereas she didn't before. She also doesn't scream at my presence any more, either."

"I knew I was right to put you on the case," she said dismissively, looking back to her work as though their conversation had ended already. It was probably the closest he'd ever get to a compliment from her. "Was there anything else?" she added when she realised he hadn't left yet.

"Yes. I can't seem to find Hermione's medication record. It wasn't in the notes you gave me."

"Oh, right. Yes, of course." Healer Strout opened a desk drawer and rummaged in it, pulling out a large piece of parchment and handing it to him. "Here."

"Thanks," he said, taking it and quickly leaving. It was clear she didn't want to be disturbed any more and it wouldn't do to annoy her when she'd placed such faith in him. He went back to his office to peruse the medication notes he'd just been given. He didn't think they'd need much thought, but it was better to know exactly what he was dealing with when it came to Hermione.

Draco sat down at his desk and skimmed the list of medication, murmuring aloud. "Dreamless Sleep... Calming Draught... Draught of Peace... combined with drops of Forgetfulness Potion." He sat back in his chair in shock. It was no wonder Hermione was so withdrawn into herself and struggling to cope with everyday life and the present day if they were giving her such a lethal combination! One or two on their own over a small period of time would do no harm, but all together over ten years... it explained exactly why Hermione was the way she was after so long.

He grabbed his quill from the edge of the desk and struck them all out. He was going to start Hermione on a clean slate all over again. He wanted to see exactly what she'd be like without them—whether she still had nightmares, anxiety attacks or troubling thoughts. He could understand the use of these potions in the beginning, but after a few months, they should have gradually weaned her off them and tackled the problem directly. What Hermione would need the most, Draco suspected, was a Mind Healer.

He went to his office door and called down the corridor for Nurse Stratham. She came to his call, but she didn't look happy about it. "Have you given Hermione her potions for today?"

"Not yet, Healer Malfoy."

"Good." He smiled at her. "Please don't. I'm starting from scratch with her. No more potions; I want to tackle this head on. It's no wonder she's so out of it with such a combination after such a length of time. I'll stay here tonight, by her bedside, so I'll be on hand if the nightmares do return."

Nurse Stratham didn't seem to think much of Draco's plan, yet again, but she didn't comment on it. "Right, Healer Malfoy," she said quietly, turning on her heel and disappearing from his view.

He looked at the time: five pm. He had a long night ahead of him, and so did Hermione.

*

The clock struck ten, indicating that it was time for Draco to get back to St Mungo's (after having a very late tea) and sit by Hermione's bed to make sure she made it through the night okay. If she did, they were a lot farther along in her recovery than Draco had even dared to hope, and it would confirm his suspicion that the lethal combination of potions were what had her in such a state, rather than the torture she'd unfortunately suffered through.

The ward turned the lights off for the patients to go to sleep at ten, so when Draco arrived, the nurses were just leaving. He crept to Hermione's bed and pulled the curtain around it, shielding both of them from the rest of the ward. He also cast a silencing charm before he sat down, just in case they were in for a rough night. He really hoped not, but he had no idea what was going to happen.

When he sat down, Hermione stirred. She'd just drifted off to sleep by the looks of it but his presence must have woken her. He smiled at her and placed a finger to his lips, indicating that he was going to be silent now. As she turned her head to go back to sleep, he opened his briefcase as quietly as possible and took out a book. He knew he'd need a distraction throughout the night so he'd brought along a few books and some papers he needed to work on, just in case he got tired of reading.

Hour by hour passed and Hermione did not wake, stir or even seem to writhe. No nightmares seemed forthcoming, and as time went on, Draco became more and more confident that she was going to be okay. So much so that he chanced a nip to the bathroom around six am, an hour or so before the nurses came back on the ward to wake the patients for breakfast. Hermione was still fine when he got back, but no sooner had he begun the start of a new chapter did she begin to stir. She made a sort of strangled gurgling noise and began to shake, but just as Draco was about to wake her, it suddenly stopped. 

Draco was confused, even more so when it didn't happen again. The last hour played out as smoothly as all the others had done, so he should have considered it a success, but he couldn't help but be worried about the small incident. It could easily have been a withdrawal from the potions, because it didn't seem like a nightmare and had only happened the once. He supposed he'd have to wait and see if it happened tomorrow or the day after. Now he was extra glad he'd decided to stay the night, because it had happened so quickly that the nurses wouldn't have even noticed it. 

"Good morning, Hermione," he said brightly when the nurses entered the ward. She opened her eyes and blinked a few times, then brought her hands up to rub the sleep out of her eyes. She tried to sit up, but it seemed her hands were failing her, so he helped position her. "I'll be back to check on you later today. Goodbye."

"Bye, Malfoy."

Draco turned in surprise, a large smile on his face. Those two words, those two little words, were the very ones that said to Draco more than anything else that Hermione was well on the road to recovery. Not only had she shown awareness of the situation—that Draco was leaving—and used the appropriate word, but she'd also shown that she recognised exactly who he was and remembered his name too, and she hadn't freaked out either. They weren't even simple words like the others had been; they were a lot more complex and made sense together. 

"Bye, Hermione." He left with the grin still on his face, probably looking like an idiot when he instructed Nurse Stratham to keep a close eye on her to see if she spoke again. He also made sure Hermione wouldn't be given any more potions, and that if there was a problem, the nurses had to go straight to him. How Hermione's first day without potions panned out would be very important, but to make sure he was on the ball for it, he was going to go home and sleep for a few hours.

Apparently, fate did not agree with that, for he was stopped by one very tired-looking Harry Potter as he exited the ward. He really was not in the mood for this. "Look, if you've come to have another go at me—"

"I haven't," Harry interrupted, stepping forward a little. He ran his hands through his hair, as though he was trying to pluck up the courage to say what he wanted to. "I, er, I heard her just now, and I've just seen Healer Strout. I guess I owe you an apology."

Was the great Harry Potter actually admitting he was wrong and apologising to him, Draco Malfoy, of all people?! Draco was so shocked he couldn't say anything.

"I'm sorry. It seems you've been the best Healer Hermione's had since she's been in here. You've made the most progress with her by far." Harry looked away, embarrassed, and Draco still didn't know how to respond. He went for a polite smile, but Harry didn't even see it. "Aren't you going to say anything?"

"Honestly, Potter, I don't know _what_ to say."

"You could accept my apology?"

"I accept your apology." Since Draco was dealing with Harry in a professional capacity, he tried to keep the tiredness out of his voice, and tried not to let it show that what he really wanted was for this conversation to be over. "I think you'll get a lot out of Hermione if you sit with her today. I took her off the potions and she had a pretty smooth night. I'm almost positive they were what caused her prolonged suffering, since she wasn't getting the actual help she needed and was instead put on a lethal combination to simply keep her quiet."

Harry's fists clenched at that, but he otherwise kept his cool and looked Draco in the eye. "What now?"

"I'll be referring her to a Mind Healer. They're relatively new in the Wizarding world and weren't available when she was first admitted, but I think it's exactly what she needs right now. It's a more specialised care, and they can tailor her treatment towards her. There are no physical barriers to her recovery as far as I'm aware, just psychological ones. If you want, you can take Hermione out into the gardens today; just ask Nurse Stratham for a wheelchair"

Harry nodded slowly. "Thanks again, Malfoy." He offered out his hand to Draco in a reverse of the situation when they were eleven, and although it was tempting for Draco not to take it, he did. 

"You're welcome." A nod of understanding passed between them, and they went their separate ways. Draco was sure that if there were any problems with Hermione today, Harry would let him know later. Hopefully, given the successful night they'd had, there wouldn't be.

*

After a good several hours nap, Draco returned to the hospital and handed in the referral he'd just written for Hermione to see a Mind Healer. He dropped it in Healer Strout's office along with Hermione's new—and very empty—medications list, with a brief note that she was not to be put on any potions without his say so. Then he went straight along to the Janus Thickey Ward to see how she was doing. Harry wasn't there any more, but he was stopped by Nurse Stratham on the way to her bed.

"Well done, Healer Malfoy," Nurse Stratham said, shaking his hand. "She's been chatting away all day."

"Really? That's excellent news. She got on well with Harry?"

Nurse Stratham nodded as she walked off to deal with another patient. It was very rare to see her so jubilant, so he must have done something right. He turned to see Hermione looking at him, and as soon as he caught her eye she smiled brightly at him. He matched her smile as he sat down next to her.

"Good evening, Hermione. How has your day been?"

"Fantastic, thank you, _Healer_ Malfoy." She smiled again. "My brain is clear for the first time in a long time, and although in the back of my mind I have these horrible, harrowing images, I'd rather deal with them than be nearly comatose as I was for so very long. Well done for spotting what was causing my condition. You always were very clever."

"Not as clever as you," Draco replied. "You always topped me in everything. When you get better and choose a career, please don't become a Healer. I don't think I could stand it if you topped me at this too."

Hermione laughed, and he remembered how irritating it'd been at school. Now, though, he wanted to hear more of it. "Don't worry, I've no plans to become a Healer, and I suspect my recovery is still a long way off yet."

"Not as far off as you might think," said Draco, happy to deliver a semblance of good news. "I've referred you to a Mind Healer, who'll be able to deal with your care in a specialised way. They'll know more than me. I'll still be overseeing your general care, though. Assuming all goes well with the Mind Healer, I estimate a recovery time of six to eight months."

"Oh." She seemed sad. "Not in time for Christmas, then."

"No, but if you're doing well, there's every possibility you could join your friends and family for Christmas and then come back afterwards."

Hermione's face lit up. "Really? Thank you. I never imagined I'd ever be in your debt, Malfoy, but it seems I am. Without you, I could have wasted away in this blasted bed."

Draco shrugged in an attempt to feign modesty, but he couldn't help the arrogant smirk that crossed his face. He was still a Malfoy, and a Slytherin, after all. "I'll take you out into the gardens again tomorrow, if you want? You might be able to appreciate it more this time."

"Yeah, hopefully," Hermione said, blushing a little. "The weather's still nice?"

"Too nice, if you ask me. It's going to make my signature pale complexion stand out against everyone else's tanned ones." Draco winked at her and stood. "I've got a bit more paperwork to do, but I'll be back for lights out at ten again tonight. I just want to make doubly sure that you're okay."

"You don't need to do that," Hermione began. "I'm sure the nurses—"

"I want to," Draco interrupted her firmly. "I want to be thoroughly confident that your nightmares have disappeared. Not to mention I'd also quite like to finish my book."

"Oh?" Hermione inquired. "What are you reading?"

"The Commitments by Roddy Doyle."

"Excellent choice," she commented. "If you're enjoying it, you'll love the second and third instalments."

Draco nodded in agreement. "Yes, I am. Here, that reminds me. When I went to get your outdoor robes the other day, I spotted a couple of books in the box under your bed. I'm sure you've read them before, but they'll keep you occupied now you can properly think. Your concentration might be affected for a while though, so don't be alarmed if you're struggling. I'll contact Harry and ask him to bring in some books."

"I beat you to it." Hermione grinned. "I made him write a very long list of all the books I wanted."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Trust you. Right, I'm off. See you later."

"Bye!"

As he strolled off the ward, Draco could hear Hermione asking Nurse Stratham if she'd get the books out for her. Typical Granger. It seemed she'd never really changed, then, which was of course good news. He'd never liked her in school, but she'd never deserved to lose the last ten years of her life. After witnessing her torture and being unable to stop it, he felt it was the least he could do to help her recover. Despite her tragic loss of time, Draco still expected her to go far once she was able. She'd always been very capable.

He thought back to the conversation he'd had with Pansy and Blaise about his love life. Pansy had been right about brown hair and dark eyes being his type, but not so much the skimpy robes. He liked a bit of mystery, and intelligence too. If he thought about it, Hermione really rather fit that bill, but he doubted she'd ever want to go out with him given everything. He may have helped heal her, but even that didn't exactly counter-act his previous mistakes. Besides, his parents probably wouldn't be best pleased given her blood status. He'd just have to keep on looking and hoping.

Twenty years ago he'd never have believed it, but he really hoped to see her become the woman she'd always wanted to be. To have a hand in helping her get there was a bonus if ever there was one, given their history and his failure to act at the right time. He may not have made the right choice then, but he felt he was making the right ones regarding her now.


End file.
